


Hospital

by parxbois



Category: My Chemical Romance, Panic! at the Disco, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, joshler - Freeform, trigger warning for attempted suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 08:49:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11870811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parxbois/pseuds/parxbois
Summary: When Tyler attempts suicide, he ends up in a hospital. There, he makes friends with Josh, who doesn't speak to many people. Tyler seems to be the only one who can get him to talk. Each kid in the hospital has a different story, but no one knows Josh's. He's a mystery, an enigma, and Tyler wants to figure him out.





	1. Chapter 1

tyler wakes up fourteen minutes earlier than he should. as soon as his eyes open, he knows. he wants today to be the last day he ever wakes up. he's always been plagued by these thoughts, day and night. suicide. it's hidden somewhere amongst the tightly closed boxes that dr.davidson recommended he lock his bad memories in, then carry them to the darkest corners of his mind and leave them there. thirteen year old tyler complied, squeezing his eyes closed and tying rope around the boxes to make sure nothing could escape. but those boxes open, sometimes. when the house is silent and his thoughts are loud.   
tyler's mom is a high flying businesswoman, and rarely pays attention to her quietest son. his father rarely speaks to him, anymore. not since tyler came out as gay back in the ninth grade. they live in the same house, but they don't talk. tyler's siblings are too busy to pay attention to him, busy with their social lives and friends and parties. you could call him an introvert. as for friends, there are none. school is just a necessity, a law. he wouldn't turn up if he didn't have to.  
that's why he wants to end it. no one will miss him, no one will care. maybe his sister. she makes an effort to talk to him sometimes. but he's had enough now. there's nothing to look forward to each morning, no meeting at the mall with friends or family gatherings. his parents don't bother to ask him if he wants to attend anymore. he sits in his room, writing poems that can be sung. except he doesn't sing anymore. he was never the happiest of children, but when his grandmother died, he was only twelve, that was it. he was close, so close to her. she kept him sane, with her wise words and comforting hugs and cookies that tasted like cold autumn evenings and hot chocolate. he stayed in his room for a week straight, just crying.  
he felt alone, so alone, and five years later he feels exactly the same. he's that kid that usually gets left alone in paired work, or that kid who sits alone at lunch, or that kid who sits at the back of the class writing in his black book of poems and lyrics and words that mean things to him.   
his alarm flashes at the time he usually wakes up. he blinks a little, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. his mom is probably getting ready for work. his dad is most likely in his office. his siblings won't bother trying to interact with him because there's no point, really. one word answers and shrugged shoulders are all he'll give in return- so, as stated, no point trying. tyler sees the three cuts on his wrist, dating back to only last night. he'd felt worthless, so fucking worthless. and now. it's going to be today. he can't live anymore. there's no point him being here, living. he's not doing anyone any good. he wants to kill himself. tyler breathes in and out a couple times before slowly getting up. he feels sick and he's shaking. he takes a few steps toward the door, and sees his mom applying eyeliner in the hall mirror.  
'mom?'   
he tries.  
'what, tyler? i'm busy, i have to leave in five minutes.' she snaps, not looking round.   
'i don't feel too great. can i stay home today?' he says.  
'no, tyler. you look fine. go get some clothes on, have breakfast. you'll feel better with food inside you.'  
she says, whipping round to take a quick glance at tyler.   
tyler doesn't even have the energy or motivation to move to the bathroom, let alone survive a whole day at school. he sighs quietly.   
'okay.'  
he then turns to leave, walking slowly toward the bathroom. he washes and brushes his teeth, with no vigour at all. each movement is clumsy and tired. it makes him feel slightly better knowing that he'll never have to do this again. the daily routine of relentless worrying about how to cover his scars in gym or being scared that his therapist will find out that he's relapsed. it'll all be over.   
school is the absolute hell it always is. cruel streams of insults are yelled into his ears, screams of 'fag' are thrown his way. tyler is used to this, now. it's become second nature to block out the torrent of abuse, to write his feelings in the black book. things are way easier that way. he has music, today. tyler likes music. the teacher says he has a talent, a talent for playing the piano. he thinks he's shit. he isn't, though. he really does have a talent.   
music is first period, and after that the day goes downhill. it's just absolute torture, feeling so isolated. tyler always wonders why he was born, what god's purpose was for him. seventeen years of life and yet he'd lived every day ordinarily, nothing exciting or different had ever happened. like his life was a carousel, except he couldn't get off it.  
the day finally ends, and tyler leaves hurriedly, so as to avoid any of the people who enjoy watching him wince at their horrible words. he finally reaches home, and no one's there yet, which is to his advantage. he takes a glass of water upstairs, sitting on his bed, and taking the black book from his bag.   
'anathema'  
he writes at the top.  
he's sure now. it's not living anymore, it never was. it was always just surviving, always on the brink of slipping, of letting go of what little hope he happened to have. and now he has. the hope slowly melted away, like snow on the roads, and the only hope left is black and icy and dangerous, no point in holding on any more.  
'this is right, tyler. it's your time to go.'  
he nods and takes a small handful of pills, raises a glass of water to dry lips, and swallows.   
'i'm sorry, mom.'  
he shakes out another pill, taking it.  
'i'm sorry, dad.'  
he repeats the action.  
'i'm sorry, maddy.'  
again.  
'i'm sorry, jay.'  
dizzy.  
'i'm sorry, zack.'  
nearly there.  
'i'm sorry, grandma.'  
white apparitions appear in front of tyler's eyes. he sits, watching the room start to spin and everything going black, until he crumples to the ground, unconscious. he doesn't want to be found.


	2. Chapter 2

white. that's all that's in tyler's line of sight, purely unmarked white. he panics slightly, his heart beating a little faster than it usually would first thing in the morning. his ceiling at home is light blue, and he's figured out that the white expanse must be a ceiling, so where is he? heaven briefly occurs to him, but then he remembers that he can hear what could be labeled as normal noises coming from outside wherever he is, and would there be voices in heaven discussing last night's episode of The Simpsons? Most likely not, he thinks bitterly. He turns his head just a fraction to the side and sees an empty bed on the other side of the room, a bed surrounded by low metal bars. a bed which would be internationally recognised as a hospital bed. so that's where he is. hospital.last night's attempt failed, and that just makes him feel like absolute shit. He can't do anything. He failed at killing himself . What a loser. He breathes out slowly, a long exhalation. So now he's in a hospital room, with a bitter taste in his mouth and an even worse ache somewhere in his stomach. a woman sashays into the room smiling way too widely.

'glad to see you're awake, tyler. i'm dr black, you'll be seeing quite a bit of me now. how are you feeling? i expect you'll have several questions, so fire away.' she pulls a chair up next to tyler's imprisonment of a bed and smiles down at him. her blond hair smells of coconut. 'i didn't manage, did i?' he says in a small voice. 'no, tyler, you didn't. but now you're here, you're on the road to recovery.' she gives a sympathetic, wry smile. yeah, he thinks. of course you're fucking sympathetic, i'm only a crazy, suicidal headcase that's keeping you in a job. but he just stays quiet. dr black has a clipboard that's tilted at an angle where he can't possibly see what she's scribbling down. 'be thankful your stomach didn't have to be pumped! although you did throw up a lot last night. that can't have been pleasant for you.' she grimaces, and he narrows his eyes at her. he hates her already. 'i don't really remember.' he shrugs as obviously as he can while lying flat out on his back. 'good, good.' she mumbles, still writing enthusiastically. 'where's my mom?' tyler asks, interrupting a solid five minutes of silence. 'she had to leave around midnight last night, your sister fell down the stairs at home and broke her ankle. funny enough, she's just downstairs. we've just let your mom know you're awake and talking so she should be right up.' dr black concludes what seems to be an essay on the subject of tyler, and manages to slam her pen lid on the pen. she grins at him in some sort of satisfied way and begins asking him some questions, something about how long he's had these thoughts and when did he begin considering acting on said thoughts. he stares out of the window and mumbles non-committal answers in a tone as monotonous as he can muster. she eventually sighs as if she knows he isn't cooperating and gets up to leave.

almost as soon as she's gone, tyler's mom walks right in, a taco bell bag clutched in her hand. 'hi, honey. i went to get this for you so you don't have to eat any of the hospital crap they'll feed you. here.' she hands him the burrito and he unwraps it eagerly, suddenly starving. his mom sits down, exhaling and smoothing out her floral dress. it's as if she's not sure what to say, as if she doesn't know him anymore. she doesn't. 'how are you?' she asks, a weak smile covering her face, a failing facade that even someone as naive as tyler's little sister would be able to see through. 'i'm fine.' he mutters, and she doesn't speak again after that. she sits next to him in the depressing hospital room that exudes the scent of lemon disinfectant and death. there's no color in that room, he notices. it's a range of hues of gray, white and some sort of baby blue, and frankly, it's sickening. the only flash of colour is the square of vivid blue sky that his window looks out onto.

'how's maddy?' tyler asks, after he's balled up his burrito wrapper and thrown it in a perfect arc into the gray bin. 'fine, fine. it was a bit of a freak accident, i suppose. she was trying on my high heels and tripped coming downstairs.' she laughs a little then, but her eyes don't light up like they used to. he feels guilty, but it doesn't stop him wishing he wasn't here. not in the hospital- but being here, living. 'oh.' is all tyler can think to say. he averts his eyes to the window and stares at the calming scene of unblemished blue. 'yeah, your dad came to pick her up just now. sorry he, uh, didn't come to see you. i think he had some work to do or something.' she mumbles apologetically. what kind of father wouldn't come to see their son in this sort of situation? although it's not exactly like tyler would know what to say to him, not after all these years. 'oh.' he says again. that's all his enlarged vocabulary has boiled down to. he can't think of anything else that would express how he feels right at this moment, so he just settles for that one word.

'i'd better leave, tyler. will you be alright?' she asks, standing up, clearly happier now that she doesn't have to sit with the son she doesn't know, an obligation, a charitable deed. a pretence to keep up. 'yeah. thanks for coming.' he chokes out, his voice catching in his throat. he turns away from her again and stares out of the window again, so she can't see his face. after a minute or so, the door slams and tyler rolls back over and fixates his gaze on the white ceiling once more.


	3. Chapter 3

tyler spends at least a week imprisoned inside the institute. the bed beside his own stays vacant; unclaimed by any other troubled kid. the hospital food, when his mom doesn't sneak any in for him, is abysmal, not particularly deserving of the label 'food,' tyler thinks angrily to himself as he stares bitterly at the tray of mashed potatoes, gravy and a limp piece of what is passed off as beef, but he highly doubts that. more like processed substance. he gingerly lifts a plastic, blunt knife and fork off the wooden tray and sighs, looking around the room. he nearly jumps through the ceiling when he sees dr black on a chair in the corner of the room, his useless cutlery clattering onto the floor. 'uh, i didn't hear you come in.' tyler mumbles, leaning down from the bed to grab the cutlery. 'wait, i'll get those!' dr black smiles happily at him before rushing to tyler's aid, a bit uselessly. his arms function perfectly well, thank you. after dr black has sat back in her chair with a satisfied sigh, she twirls her pen around her fingers and glances at her clipboard sporadically. it's slightly off putting but he ignores it and eventually finishes his dinner. he puts the tray on the floor, leaning down, and glances at dr black with a tiny smirk.

tyler's 'bedtime' in the hospital is around nine or ten o'clock, but he gets bored of playing cards with his little sister when she comes to visit or watching the oddly angled television until his eyes go blurry and he has to switch it off, so usually he goes to bed around eight. goes to bed-sure. goes to sleep? he finds it hard to fall asleep in a huge building with so many other people; noises floating in through the ajar door. that's another of the rules, he's not allowed to have his door shut. he's been in hospital for four days, and for the first two nights he was on suicide watch, they'd moved him into a ward where patients were only separated from others by a thin, hardly substantial curtain. after those two nights, he was allowed to move back into the room he was formerly settled into, but he couldn't go five minutes without a nurse or doctor glancing round the door or walking in to talk to him. tyler knew, an hour after being admitted into hospital, that next time he tried to kill himself, and there would be a next time, he would succeed.

the next time his mom comes to visit him, the following afternoon, she stays uncomfortably silent for a few minutes before blurting out a rushed 'you'renotgoingtodoitagainareyou?' and tyler takes a minutes to comprehend what she said before he understands. 'um, no,' he lies. 'but mom, i don't expect you to ever understand why i did it. no one ever will, not the doctors or the nurses or the therapists. only i know why i did, and only i can understand. and if i ever do do it again, it isn't your fault.' it partly is tyler's mom's fault; for not noticing the signs that he wasn't okay, never paying attention to him, making him feel alone and isolated, more so than usual. 'please don't, ty,' she hasn't called him that since he was about seven. 'we all value you so much. you're a beautiful person, okay? remember that.' his mom whispers in hushed tones, before stroking his hair off his forehead and turning to leave, in a cloud of expensive perfume. tyler coughs slightly before staring at the ceiling again. he's become well acquainted with this ceiling. he isn't bored; not really. he's having time to think. tyler begins to wonder when he'll get to leave. surely five days is long enough? he must be doing something wrong, maybe his answers to dr black's seemingly cryptically devised questions that all seem like traps to tyler. he has to think very carefully before answering each one, but he still must be doing something that's not allowing him to escape this prison.

a couple of days later, dr black comes in, carrying her lifelong companion, the fucking clipboard. 'goodmorning, tyler. how are you today?' she asks him this every single day, and the answer is always exactly the same. 'i'm good.' he motions around the room with one hand, gesturing at nothing in particular. 'look. i'm fine. you know i'm not going to do it again. when can i leave?' he looks at her pleadingly. he just needs to get out of here. needs to try again, needs to succeed. needs to not be living this pointless existence any longer than he has to. 'well,' dr black starts, and the way she clutches her clipboard to her chest tells tyler that she's not about to set him free. 'there are a few... evaluative tests that we'd like you to partake in. these tests will determine whether you can go home, or to a special facility for youths in similar circumstances to you. this afternoon you'll have a visit from dr way, a specialist,' she doesn't tell tyler what sort of specialist, but he's sure he can guess. 'he will ask you some questions and such, about school and your general feelings. will that be alright?' tyler has no choice but to nod slowly and stare back at his only friend: the ceiling. 'he should be in in a few hours,' she checks her brown leather watch with a sudden fervour, as if she has to be somewhere. 'around five?' tyler nods again. it's not like he has anywhere else to be, anyway.

when five o'clock rolls around, tyler sits up a little straighter. exactly on the dot, the door opens cautiously and a man with softly messy black hair walks in. his eyes are the first thing that strike tyler. a light green, and the sun's rays catch them so they become ethereal and slightly... beautiful. 'tyler, right?' he asks. 'hey,' he has a really soothing voice and a gently lilting accent, new jersey, tyler thinks. he shakes his head a little bit as dr way pulls a chair up. he can't get a crush on his fucking doctor. that might be a bit weird.  
'yeah. um, hello.' tyler mumbles, unable to make eye contact with the doctor. 'am i able to ask you some questions?' dr way enquires. 'sure.' tyler shrugs. the next hour or so is a mess of tyler being asked questions that no one's told him are to do with his mental health but he knows that it's some kind of evaluation. at one point he gets asked about friends. tyler just shakes his head. 'you don't want to talk about it, or you don't have any?' dr way asks soothingly. 'i don't talk much at school. no one really likes me anyway.' tyler mutters under his breath, but loud enough so dr way can hear. 'okay.' he goes silent, writing something down on his clipboard. at that point tyler begins to cry. how did it come to this? he wipes his eyes angrily, determined not to show his sadness and despair at himself and who he's become. dr way notices and pulls a packet of tissues from his pocket. 'here. take one.' tyler takes a tissue with a slightly shaking hand. 'thanks.' he whispers, and dr way just nods and begins asking him more questions.  
when the doctor has finally left, tyler falls into a light sleep, almost as soon as his head touches the pillow.


	4. Chapter 4

tyler wakes up fairly early the next morning, and dr black leaps into the room with as much enthusiasm as if she were one of his siblings and it were christmas morning. 'morning, tyler.' she smiles. 'hi.' tyler mutters. 'is it okay if we have a chat?' no matter what tone dr black uses, she constantly sounds patronising, and tyler hates it more than anything in this stupid place. he wants to get out, try again, succeed.

'i don't really have a choice, do i?' tyler mumbles. 'what was that?' dr black asks. 'i said, sure.' he says, louder. 'we've decided to move you into a facility specially for youths that we think are in danger of hurting themselves, or potentially others. you would be around others of your own age and your treatment would be more effective than if you were here.' tyler's heart sinks. he's heard about these places-and most certainly not good things. he doesn't give a shit about being around others his age, because he's terrible at establishing friendships anyway. nothing he can do now is going to make anybody change their mind, and attempting to take his life so he won't have to go is not going to succeed, due to the fact that he's in a hospital where he's looked in on every five minutes. 'd-does my mom know?' he asks. 'yes, and your father too. dr way will be replacing me at the facility-' thank fuck, tyler thinks, 'and you will be leaving here this afternoon. you will be missed here, especially by me! you are a lovely boy, tyler, don't let anyone tell you otherwise.' she gives him a watery smile and leaves the room. tyler isn't really sure if she actually means it, perhaps it's just procedure to say such a thing, but either way it doesn't make him feel much better.  
that afternoon, tyler's mom comes into his room after speaking for what seems like hours with dr black, and then he changes out of his hospital gown into some home clothes his mom brought. 'you can wear normal clothes at this facility, tyler.' his mom informs him as he emerges from the small cubicle where he got dressed. 'great.' tyler replies emotionlessly. 'let's go, then.'  
tyler and his mom leave the hospital after checking out. the drive to the facility isn't long but tyler's mom has just gifted him his cousin's old iphone, so he plugs some spare headphones that they keep in the car into his ears and listens. tyler, when he was eleven, was offered a smartphone. he declined and his mom bought him an old nokia brick, which he was totally fine with. the only person he had to text was his mom. 'tell ray thanks for the phone.' tyler mutters, but he doesn't hear her response as the sound of billy corgan's voice flows into his ears. ray has good music taste. suddenly, the car comes to a halt outside what looks to be a mansion. a tarnished, gold plaque is positioned on the brick, next to the unnecessarily massive wooden door. 'johnson house, established 1892' it reads. tyler gets out of the car, taking his blue nike duffle bag with him. he stands for a minute, staring at the building he'll be living in for god knows how long. without speaking, his mom puts her arm around his shoulder and begins to walk him in, through the wooden door. it's uncomfortable, but he doesn't shrug her off.   
'this is your room,' the nurse speaks to tyler calmly and carefully, as if he might start yelling at her any minute. his mom stands next to him while he's given a short tour of the building; it appears that there really isn't anywhere particularly interesting he could frequent. just his room, the dining hall, and the adjoining bathroom in his room. 'as you can see, there are two beds. your roommate will be arriving this evening. however you choose to spend your free time is up to you. if you would attempt to not prolong your goodbyes, i'd best be on my way.' she bustles out of the room, and tyler's mom gives him a hug, whispers to be good in his ear, and leaves. he takes a look around the room. two beds, two dressers, a clock, and a shared wardrobe for him and his roommate. he goes and sits on his bed for a minute with his head in his hands. how did he end up like this? how did he end up here?   
tyler sleeps for a while. soon, a bell rings and each teenage patient shuffles out of their rooms to the huge dining hall. they queue for food, and sit at tables where the ones who actually have friends sit together and talk. tyler sits in a corner. his mom had packed some books in his bag for him, so he'd taken one to dinner. once he's managed to finish the first chapter, and just as he's turning the page, a huge clatter sounds behind him, from the direction of where the food is served. 'i didn't want to come here! i had to! fuck off, all of you assholes.' the kid stares out all of the patients who are staring at his outburst. he's not a kid, maybe fifteen, sixteen. he has electric blue hair, wavy and messy. he kicks his tray halfway across the linoleum and storms out of the room. tyler turns back to his book, shakes his head subtly, and carries on eating his food. a boy with floppy hair sits down heavily opposite tyler, scrutinizes him, deems him appropriate to sit near, and sits himself down. tyler raises an eyebrow, but doesn't comment. the boy holds his hand out to tyler. 'brendon.' tyler hesitates before taking the boy's hand reluctantly, and shaking it. 'tyler. um, i have to, y'know, head to my room now. so, erm, bye.' tyler's really not in the mood for people. 'then i bid you good evening.' brendon tips an imaginary top hat. 'odd kid.' tyler mumbles under his breath, but a small smile plays across his lips. as soon as he's left the table to put his tray away, a boy with a black skeleton hoodie and black fingerless gloves takes his place. 'yo, f.' the boy nods, swallowing, and shoves a wedge of garlic bread into his mouth. 

once tyler is safely back in his room and lying on his bed, he closes his eyes and tries to imagine himself back to his own bedroom at home, because even though he wasn't happy there at all, at least he didn't have to be around so many people his own age and be expected to talk to them. it's working, until there's a knock on the door. 'come in.' the nurse that took him to this room initially enters, with none other than the blue haired boy behind her. his hands are shoved so deep into his pockets that tyler wonders if they'll ever come back out, and his converse laces are trailing. 'hi, tyler. this is josh, your roommate. i'll leave you two to get to know each other. the nurse turns and leaves, and tyler almost wants to beg her to stay, because this is going to be awkward, what with tyler's non-existent social skills. 'um, h-hi?' tyler says, as josh produces an ancient walkman and headphones. 'whatever.' josh collapses onto his bed, and removes a tattered copy of 'the great gatsby' from his bag. 'u-um, hard one.' tyler squeaks, pointing to the book. 'i said, whatever.' tyler recoils and curls up on his bed, putting his earphones in and staring at the wall.


	5. Chapter 5

that first night, tyler goes to sleep as early as he's allowed. he doesn't want to be around the figure of hostility that is josh. josh gets told to go to bed at half past nine, when the nurses come round, but tyler can see him out of the corner of his eye, reading by the light of his phone, the phone he was meant to hand in for the night. he must have handed in a fake one. the light is keeping tyler up. 'i-i'm really sorry, please could you maybe turn the brightness down or put it off? i can't sleep... thanks.' josh snorts and rolls over, but turns the brightness down and turns the page of his book. 'thank you.' tyler mumbles, and eventually slips into sleep.   
'no! i said, no! go away! get the fuck away! please!' josh sits up in bed, sweating and breathing heavily. tyler's already sitting up and staring as josh recovers from his nightmare. 'are-are you alright?' tyler stutters. 'i'm fine, fuck off.' josh brushes his hair out of his eyes, turns his pillow over, and goes back to sleep.  
the next day, tyler gets told that he has an appointment with dr way-group therapy. and guess who's in his group? josh. some other kids too, but josh is what's worrying tyler. when ten o' clock comes around, tyler goes to the room he was told to go to, room 301. a circle of chairs are arranged, some occupied, some not. the forehead boy is there, brendon, tyler remembers, and the boy with the skeleton gloves, which he still hasn't taken off. a boy with a mohawk and glasses, skinny and awkward, sits there too, and a young-looking boy with brown hair and a floral waistcoat sits next to brendon. 'welcome, tyler! dr way walks in, coming from an adjoining room next door. 'hi, everyone. we're waiting on josh, yes?' the boy with the mohawk mumbles 'yes.' dr way smiles as though he's just drawn blood from a stone. 'nice to see you again, mikey.'   
'so, guys, if we all go round the circle and tell everyone why we're here. if you prefer not to say, just say 'pass' and we'll go to the next person.' dr way announces. 'brendon, let's start with you.' brendon opens his mouth to begin speaking, and tyler notices the kid next to him take his hand. 'i-i have severe anxiety, a-and bipolar disorder.' waistcoat boy smiles up at brendon like he just hung the stars in the sky. 'i'm ryan, i have add, and ocd.' ryan smiles timidly and looks to mikey to carry on. 'i-i'm mikey, i have severe depression and suicidal thoughts.' he looks at the floor and nudges gloves-boy to carry on. 'i'm frank, i was abused domestically and was raped. i've attempted suicide twice.' it's then tyler's turn. he takes a breath. 'i-i triedsuicide.' in a way, he feels stupid. all these other boys have diagnosed conditions, but he just has one simple thing that sounds stupid when he says it out loud.  
the session goes by fairly swiftly. the rest of the guys are all quite nice, although quiet. at dinner that night, tyler sits with them. he sees josh get his tray of food, a book balanced on there too. straining his eyes, tyler can see that josh has finished 'the great gatsby'-it's 'the catcher in the rye' now. he has his permanent scowl on his face, and he sits alone in a corner, moving away if anyone tries to sit near him. 'so, tyler, what school did you go to?' brendon asks. 'c-columbus high.' tyler mumbles through a mouthful of spaghetti. 'oh, cool.' brendon grins at him. once tyler has decided he's had enough small talk and chit-chat, he gets up from the table and heads off to his room. tyler walks off down the corridor and turns the doorknob of his room. he almost screams from fright when he sees josh lounging on his bed on his stomach, reading a book, because he really wasn't expecting anyone to be there.the door is still open, so he slams it in the hopes that josh will hear and subsequently realise that tyler is there. he doesn't. the rest of that evening is spent with tyler listening to music and watching josh turn the pages of his book with the immense precision that usually isn't required to turn a page. josh doesn't dog-ear his pages either, which pleases tyler, because to be honest, dog-earing pages should be made illegal. when nine thirty comes around, and the light starts to refrain from pouring in through the window, tyler hands his phone in, pulls on his pajamas and brushes his teeth. he crawls into bed, but finds it increasingly difficult to fall asleep, due to the sound of slamming doors and yelling coming from down the corridor. hours later,josh sits up in bed. 'wanna get out of here?' he suddenly asks. 'where to?' tyler asks. 'anywhere.' 

so that's how tyler and josh end up getting out of bed in the pitch dark, telling which way they are going by sounds and trying to get their clothes on but crashing into each other and giggling. it's like josh becomes a different person at night; becomes suddenly witty and funny and laughs a lot. tyler slips his checkered vans onto his feet while josh pulls on black converse, leaving the laces trailing across the linoleum. 'how do you plan on getting us out of here?' tyler asks. 'window.' 'but it's locked.' tyler fiddles with the lock on the window as if that's going to magically make it come undone. josh, being josh, becomes the generic movie cliche and reaches into his hoodie pocket and produces a bobby pin. he pushes it into the lock on the window, wiggles it around a little, and pushes the window up. 'wonder will never cease.' tyler mumbles. 'what was that?' josh smirks. 'i said, i like... bees.' josh makes sure the window is pushed up as far as it can go, and tells tyler to go. 'scale the drainpipe. it isn't very far.' tyler looks at the ground. 'you know, your shoe laces are undone.' he informs josh. 'yeah, i'm well aware. i think it makes me look cooler, don't you?' by the thin beam of light that the moon is sending through the open window, tyler can see that josh is smiling slightly. 'no. i think it's a safety hazard.' josh shakes his head and chuckles. 'just go. i'll be down when you reach the ground.' when tyler jumps off the drainpipe, he dusts his hands off and looks up at the window, watching josh tug his hood up over his hair and climb out of the window and start to slide down the pipe. a couple of metres before he reaches the gravel floor, he jumps off and lands perfectly on his feet. 'a gymnast, then?' tyler grins. 'yes, actually. been in the olympics twice. i was quite the gifted child, you know.' josh says, and for just a second, tyler really believes him. just for a second, though. 'where we off to?' he asks. 'follow me.' josh wiggles a bony finger and tyler follows, like a lost puppy.

a while later, they end up in a park, a playground but with an expanse of field behind it along with a skatepark. it's completely abandoned, just as it should be at this time of the morning, and tyler smiles. 'this way.' josh sets off walking through the field for about ten minutes, tyler next to him. they walk in complete silence, except for the occasional roar of a car and the beam of headlights as they drive by somewhere in the distance. josh stops in front of what could be explained simply as a hill with a hollowed out 'cave' in it. it's just big enough for two people. josh walks in and tyler follows apprehensively. it's completely dark in the cave, and the darkness is threatening. as tyler's eyes accustom to the darkness, he watches josh reach into a crack in a wall and retrieve a battered skateboard, covered in stickers from all over the place, countries as well as random brands like adidas, and there are definitely a few sports stickers on there too. they traipse over to the skate park and sit on the biggest ramp there is, and tyler wonders how good josh is at skating. suddenly, he stands up, does a weirdly cool flippy thing with his board that allows him to get on it without actually touching it, and skates down the ramp, grinning up at tyler once he's at the bottom. 'wanna have a go?' he asks, the corners of his eyes going all crinkly and his dimples becoming apparent. 'oh-no-i don't really skate. at all.' he shakes his head. 'nah, c'mon. let me teach you.' and that's how josh ends up running back to the cave to get knee and shoulder pads so tyler 'doesn't hurt himself'. 

after several hours of chatting and trying to skate, tyler has still not discovered the art of skateboarding and is ready to just go back to their room, seeing as he's about to die of tiredness. dawn is breaking, the sunset nearly happening. josh watches tyler stare avidly at the sky. 'i know a good place to watch it.' and then he starts off walking and like he's some kind of magnetic force that he can't seem to escape, tyler follows him. they climb a hill and sit on a bench, and watch the vibrant oranges and pinks and even purples float across the sky and then sun making its way higher and higher into the sky. 'wanna go back? they're gonna miss us soon.' josh offers. tyler yawns, nodding. he laughs, then smiles. 'what?' josh grins. 'nothing.' 

ten minutes later, it's completely silent. but a comfortable silence, not one of those silences where you feel like you have to initiate a conversation just because the silence is so quiet. 'josh?' tyler says quietly. 'yeah?' josh replies. 'your laces are still undone. race you back!' then tyler proceeds to jump off the bench, and run down the hill, all the way back to the hospital.


	6. Chapter 6

after breakfast that morning, tyler has to endure a gruelling session of group therapy. his mind is constantly flicking back and forth between reality and last night, yet he's so tired and his eyelids are drooping and he's not really sure how he's keeping awake right now. the session goes without a hitch and although it isn't something tyler is used to, the guys in his group make him feel welcome and not like a loner who's the new kid on the block, especially brendon who seems to have an endless supply of energy which is, when he comes to think of it, is what is keeping tyler awake right now. thanks, brendon.

after that, tyler has lessons. it's school, spare the homework. maths today. he's bored out of his mind at the back of the class, sitting next to mikey way, who talks about as much as a brick wall. tyler observes the other kids who are chatting and passing notes, and wishes mikey would engage in that. when the teacher, mr bryar, leaves, tyler decides to initiate a conversation with mikey. 'hey, this is pretty boring.' he whispers in the other boy's ear. mikey looks like the shell of a good friend; amiable eyes, caramel hair, amiable face. except for the minor fact that he doesn't speak. to anyone. tyler doesn't know why he tried. he really doesn't know why he tried when mikey scrapes his chair back noisily; the sound akin to a knife on a plate or chalk running down a blackboard. tyler thinks he's going to run from the classroom, except he doesn't. he takes his maths worksheets and rips them up into tiny shreds until they are obliterated, until a pile of tiny bits of paper with remnants of inky black letters are visible here and there. his work is eradicated and it reminds tyler of snow. the pile of paper sits on mikey's desk and he stares at it blankly before coming to life and reaching into his pocket to extract a lighter. contraband, tyler thinks. what happens next is easy to figure out. flames lick at tyler's desk and that's when mikey runs from the classroom, crying. the boy with the skeleton gloves who sits in front of tyler turns round, unscrews his bottle of water and douses the fire until a mountain of charred ash is all that remains. the wood on the desk is scorched and smoking. tyler coughs a little. 'y'okay?' the boy asks. 'yeah. i'm fine. i-i didn't mean to make him do that, i-' skeleton gloves boy smiles sympathetically. 'it's okay. we all set him off sometimes. he's really nice, i guess you just need to be careful around him. he's... sensitive. i'm frank, by the way.' he turns back round and that's when mr bryar walks back in, a stack of papers in his hands, a mug of coffee balancing on top. his eyes visibly catch the torched desk next to tyler and the empty chair. 'where did he go?' he sighs. 'he ran out of the classroom, sir.' tyler says. 'i'm sorry, i just said something to him and he totally freaked-' mr bryar shakes his head. 'no worries. you all work quietly here. i'll be back soon.'

after maths is over, tyler catches up to frank as they leave the classroom and walk down the corridor. 'what exactly is wrong with mikey?' he enquires. 'his stepdad raped him.' frank says without emotion, his eyes vacant. 'jesus fuck.' tyler breathes. 'yeah, i know. he doesn't like people getting close to him at all. it's sad.' tyler blinks a few times. it's hard to get your mind around- someone who you're meant to trust and is meant to respect you, doing that. he can imagine it would destroy everything for you-trust, sociability. poor mikey. 

it's free time for the rest of the day and tyler makes his way back to his room. he expects to see josh there. judging by the way he's always lounging on the bed reading when tyler gets back from anywhere, he's probably one of the kids who doesn't have to go to lessons. frank said that mikey was at risk of becoming one of these and after the incident in maths, tyler's guessing he won't see him in any more classes. he's right, josh is lying on the bed. but weirdly, he's not reading. he's talking to someone. when tyler enters properly, he sees that josh is speaking to mikey. 'i'm sorry, i'll leave.' josh nods, smiling a little as if to say thanks. he notices, before he leaves, that mikey's crying. he opens the door once more, extracting a packet of tissues from his pocket, and places them on the bed where mikey can reach them, choosing not to hand them right to him. mikey looks up and smiles gratefully, and for just a second, tyler sees a boy with scared eyes, a deeply damaged boy, a boy with caramel-coloured hair but a boy with his own problems and worries and hopes for the future. tyler doesn't see him as the boy who set his desk on fire anymore, and it seems as though mikey can tell because just before tyler turns to leave again, mikey grabs his hand, squeezes it, and then releases his grip.

tyler isn't sure where to go so he heads to frank's room. his roommate is clearly mikey because he's sitting alone on his bed, nodding along to a cd player on his desk. 'green day!' tyler exclaims. he'd been listening to ray's ipod religiously at night, and had learnt the names of loads of the bands. green day's his favourite. 'yeah,' frank grins. 'come in.' after tyler had explained why he came to hang out with frank, he notices frank is still wearing the gloves. 'd-do you wear those all the time?' he asks. 'i do, yeah.' frank nods along to 'holiday' and twiddling his fingers. 'd-do you mind me asking why?' tyler asks curiously. 'no.' frank smiles, the tiniest possible twitch of the corners of his mouth. 's-so why?' tyler says. 'oh. my mom, she-she has problems.mentally. like me. big problems. i came out to her as gay when i was fourteen and she, uh, she took it fine. next day, she attacked me with, uh, with acid. my hands got caught. they're, erm, marred. for life. they're disgusting, i-i can't show them.' tyler's jaw drops. he realises that probably isn't the best reaction, but he can't imagine his own mother doing that to him. it's shocking. he's never heard such a terrible story, apart from mikey's. 'i'm, god, i'm so sorry frank.' frank's staring at the duvet cover now. 'it isn't your fault, is it.' he says sadly, and tyler sees a tiny section of the duvet turn a darker shade of grey. frank's sobbing.


	7. Chapter 7

Tyler arrives into the cafeteria the next morning, gets his food, and sits down at the table where brendon, frank, pete and mikey are sitting. 'hi.' he says simply, a small smile aimed at his friends. 'yo, ty.' tyler flinches-he doesn't like it when people call him that, but he doesn't comment on it. 'can i call you that?' brendon asks, sipping orange juice, his little finger in the air. tyler almost laughs. 'yeah. well, no. but yeah. you can if you want.' he looks down at the floor and rolls his eyes at himself. years of not being able to make friends has really taken its toll. brendon smiles. ''kay.' and it's as easy as that. tyler's grateful that brendon is so friendly, because it's almost as though he's so caught up in his own world, he doesn't notice tyler's awkwardness. 'how long have you guys been in here for?' he asks. it's something he's been wondering. 'six months.' frank says, fiddling with his chipped black fingernails, but not making direct eye contact with anyone. 'two months.' mikey sighs. 'i can't wait to get out.' pete nods. 'same. i've only been here one month, but as you can tell, it's not exactly party central.' he gestures around the pale green room, where there are probably only twenty kids, but that's only in this unit; josh told tyler last night that there are more kids in other places in the hospital. josh. when tyler got up and dressed in the morning, josh was still asleep, even though tyler told him, like, a million times that they had to get up. josh just mumbled incoherently so tyler left him alone, and he didn't come to breakfast. he watches pete stir his food around the plate, but eats none of it. when pete catches his eye, he looks away quickly. 

someone comes up behind tyler-he hears footsteps squeak on the linoleum-and taps his shoulder. 'hi, tyler.' he turns round, and sees the doctor who got him transferred here. the piercing green-hazel eyes penetrate his own. 'dr way.' he greets. 'come with me outside for a second, will you?' frank gives him a quick thumbs up, and pete mouths 'it's just a routine thing.' tyler follows dr way into the cream-coloured corridor outside the cafeteria. they enter a completely white room where dr way motions to tyler to sit in a soft, blue chair. he complies and looks at the doctor, in the seat opposite. 'so, tyler, this is a routine appointment we have with each child once they've been here for a week. i just need to ask you a few questions.' tyler nods, staring at the floor. dr way produces a clipboard and pen. 'how are you, first of all, tyler?' 'i'm okay.' he says. he isn't lying. he feels better than he did. and he has friends. like dr way can read his mind, he asks, 'have you made any friends?' tyler nods. 'yes.' dr way scribbles on his clipboard. 'may i ask who?' he pushes his jet-black hair out of his eyes. he's pale, tyler notices. he reminds tyler of a vampire. his skin is translucent and tyler can imagine him as a vampire, his teeth are so white and he's kind of scary. he seems really professional but tyler can see his batman socks under his shiny black shoes. 'frank, pete, brendon,mikey and ryan.' he hesitates for a minute. 'and josh. my roommate.' dr way nods. 'good, good.' he's still writing. he asks more questions but the meeting doesn't last long. when tyler leaves, dr way is still in his seat writing. 'nice socks.' tyler smiles before he leaves, and dr way blushes and says thank you. 

tyler has a session of one to one therapy, which is different to group, like he's used to, but the doctor is nice. dr weekes. then he has to go to english, which he doesn't mind too much, because it's one of his favourite subjects. or it was, at his old school, because he really liked his teacher. he sits next to a boy called spencer, who doesn't talk much but is really nice. they're studying poetry, which is okay, but tyler is bored because the teacher's voice is annoyingly monotonous. he lets his mind wander. he still hasn't seen josh is any lesson since he's been here, and he can't figure out what he does all day. he has a million books, but he must get bored reading 24/7. maybe he goes to the place he took tyler that night, but there's a bigger chance of him getting caught in the daytime. he's always there when tyler gets back after lessons, sometimes doing nothing but mostly reading. 

when tyler gets back to his room that day, josh is on his bed, staring up at the ceiling like it's the most interesting thing in the world, instead of smooth white plaster with no pattern. 'what do you do all day?' tyler finds the courage to ask as soon as he's taken off his shoes and collapsed onto his bed opposite josh. josh doesn't answer; he rolls over and stares at the wall. 'okay.' tyler mutters, and reaches for his headphones, feeling kind of rejected. it's getting dark outside, cold. the leaves swirl around in the wind, and personally, it's tyler's favourite time of the year. the weather is crisp and you get to wear hoodies all the time. before he can put his headphones in, josh sits up and speaks. 'do you want to go somewhere?' he asks. 'you can't just keep doing this.' tyler sighs. 'we sneak out and do something fun, you speak to me, we get back and sit in bed and talk, then in the morning you don't talk to me at all? what's up with that?' he voices what he's been thinking for days, and is sort of proud of himself for doing so. 'wanna go or not?' josh ruffles his bright hair. 'okay.' tyler agrees. he might as well.


End file.
